think twice | r. suna

fifteen

It was early morning when you arrived at your house. You paid the taxi driver a hefty fee before stumbling to your door. In the car, you had tended to your wounds as much as you could, but your body was severely bruised and it was becoming increasingly obvious that your jaw needed medical attention.

Your phone blew up with messages from Suna and even some of the other Inarizaki boys. They were probably still in Tokyo, where the fighting had hopefully paused for the time being. You considered calling Suna back, but you didn't know what you'd say. The last thing you wanted was Suna fighting his own guys again - Osamu had been enough of a show to get the Tokyo boys talking - especially not in Tokyo.

So instead, you turned your phone to silent, placed it face down on the bedside table, and peeled off your clothes, leaving only your undergarments on.

The damage was extensive. Purple, green, and blue bruises decorated your toned abdomen, shins, thighs, arms, and above all, face. A cut ran over your nose bridge, and other shallower cuts were visible over your body. There was a particularly deep one on your thigh, and dried blood covered the area.

In the bathroom, you sucked in your breath and clenched your teeth through the pain as you cleaned yourself up. Dabbing a damp cloth against your leg, you slowly cleaned the blood away to reveal a cut that would definitely need stitches.

Luckily, being involved in the high school gang scene teaches you some things.

Fifteen minutes later, your thigh was all stitched up and all dried blood was gone from your body. Your body still ached all over and the pain was immense, but at least you didn't look an inch from death anymore. You gently put on an oversized tee and baggy grey shorts and climbed into your bed.

When Monday arrived, you were back at school. You got some weird side-glances for the cuts on your face, but you wore tights under your uniform skirt and a hoodie over your shirt to cover the bruises on your limbs. And anyway, at Inarizaki, showing up to school like you'd just been in a fight wasn't exactly uncommon.

What was unusual, however, was the fact that Suna was nowhere to be seen.

The king of Inarizaki wasn't one to skip, despite his bad-boy attitude; he had to protect and take care of his domain, and so he roamed his halls, looking out for potential threats.

But that day, the king was gone.

You checked your phone for a recent text from Suna, but the latest text was from the night you left Tokyo. Preparing yourself to face him, you dialed his number and pressed call.

No answer.

The next day, the same. Rumours rippled through classrooms when neither Suna, nor the Miya twins, showed up to school. Tensions were high, but nobody was more tense than you. It was worrying you - the last time you saw him, he was looking for trouble, itching for a fight. What if he got what he wanted? What if he lost?

You left an inquisitional text on his phone, but he didn't read it.

The next day, a ripple of whispers went through the hallway as the front doors opened. Suna scowled at the murmuring crowds as they parted, allowing him to pass down the hallway. He looked unharmed but for a cut across his nose bridge, and his eyes scanned the hall, looking for something, until... they landed on you.

"Where the hell have you been, Rintarou?" You snapped when he reached you. "Do you have any idea how this school is when you're not here?"

Suna's brows furrowed. "Did anyone give you trouble?"

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. "No, I'm fine. People were worried, is what I mean."

"Were you?" Suna smirked, tilting his head slightly.

You turned and slammed your locker shut. "No. Like you said, you can fight." You ran your eyes over him. "Clearly, you did. What state did you leave Miya Osamu in?"

"Let's just say he won't be bothering you anymore."

"He never bothered me in the first place."

"Hmm. But he pissed me off."

You chuckled as you glanced at Suna out of the corner of your eye. "You know, you can't just beat people up whenever they piss you off. He didn't even do anything to you, anyway."

Suna ignored the first part of your statement. "Yes, he did," he replied.

You sighed. "Whatever." You began to walk down the hall, bag slung over one shoulder, but stopped when you noticed Suna wasn't walking with you.

"Y/n? Why are you limping?"

You turned to face Suna. "What do you mean? I'm not limping."

"You have a slight limp."

You felt the colour leave your face, but pretended to brush it off. "No, I don't. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to class-"

You felt Suna's hands enclose around your wrist and you spun to meet him. He studied your face, his eyes lingering on the small, partially-healed cuts, then dragged you into the nearby boy's bathroom.

"OUT!" He yelled at all the boys lingering there, smoking before class. They scrambled for the exit as he hoisted you onto the sink.

"Suna, let me go," you protested, but your wrist was still trapped within his hand. You struggled as Suna slowly, gently, pulled down your tights from under your skirt, fingers careful not to touch your skin.

His eyes widened as they took in the state of your legs. The bruises were slowly healing, but many were still green and purple; however, it was the slash on your thigh that stopped Suna's breath in his throat. For three seconds he stared at it, his eyes wide at first but soon narrowing with anger. His fingertips grazed it and you flinched with the pain.

After seconds of being frozen, you pushed him off you and pulled up your tights, jumping off the sink. Suna leaned forward, both hands on the edge of the sink, holding him up, staring angrily into the mirror. Your eyes met in the reflection.

"Y/n."

Suna stood straight, hands still on the edge of the sink, head raised. The anger in his eyes frightened you slightly. He looked ready to murder someone, and you knew that if your eyes met without the mirror to soften the blow, you would not be able to face him.

"Who did this to you?"

a/n++

ah yes, my favourite trope. <3<3 JUST YOU WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER BITCHESSSS

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